Winter Is Here

Arya since the beginning has had two things on her mind: vengeance and her family. That's it. Her obsession has been about crossing people off her list and getting back to her family. We see this repeatedly in seasons 2-3 where she works to get back to Robb but also learns about the Faceless Men/Yoren gives her the List idea. Then we get Season 4, at which point she has lost all access to her family. Sansa has vanished, no one knows where she is. Robb and Catelyn are dead. Bran and Rickon are dead. Last hope is Jon, and her and the Hound continue to make their way there (i think? can't quite remember). But the main thing to focus on in Arya's storyline in Season 4 is that she's learning about the harshness of the world. The Hound teaches her how to kill better, teaches her about the calluses he's grown, teaches her about his own seeking revenge.  Then he dies. She decides not to kill him herself, leaving him there.

Seasons 5-6 continue to be about this battle between her desire for vengeance and her desire for her family/identity. She forsakes all ties to Arya Stark in order to become a Faceless Man, a vessel of death that can force her vengeance. Because again, at this point her family is dead as disco baby, so all that Arya has left is this vengeance that she has built up slowly. But at the end of Season 6 she realizes that her family, her identity is too important to her to give up, and moreover, a faceless vessel of death isn't who she's capable of being, and so she leaves. Season 7 Arya is on her vengeance quest, having chosen to remember her family for who they once were by not becoming a Faceless Man, she finds out that like THREE of her family members still live! And so she makes a choice: she can pursue her vengeance, and go to King's Landing and kill Cersei; or she can pursue her family and go to Winterfell. She does the latter. Season 7 is all about reconciling who she almost became with who she is deep down, it's about her choosing Sansa, Bran, Jon, Winterfell over her vengeance. Season 8 is fucked up but we see her defeat Death Incarnate when she kills the Night King which is another nail in the coffin for the "Arya is a heartless assassin" rhetoric symbolically; and she chooses to begin a relationship with Gendry, which is her choosing life, joy, and passion over death and desolation. She abandons Sandor at the last moment because he again shows her the truth: these calluses, this vengeance, its terrible. She knows it already, but its this last moment with Sandor, the rough one, telling her that this isn't the right way, that sent her running and saved her life. Anyway, my argument here is that Arya's dichotomy, the choices she's had to make, revolve around her choosing between her family or her vengeance. She forsakes vengeance. Therefore family is all that remains.

Daenerys perched. Waiting. Up here, on the walls, there was little noise but the sound of fires burning and the breath of Drogon, his muscles shifting ever so slightly with every motion. He was a beautiful thing, something incredible. He was hers.

Rhaegal and Viserion were gone. She had loved them, she had been born with them. Out of the ashes, they had come with her. Everything had changed that day, but the thing that changed the most was her. She was a mother to three. Beloved creatures, they were loyal, they were dependable, they were fantastical, but most importantly they were her children. And now two were gone. Two of her children dead.

She breathed, trying to catch sight of her troops, who had assaulted the city. It had fallen quiet, why had battle stopped? She was curious but there was little she could do, her dragon would do little good if the battle was over. She could do nothing but wait. Hope Grey Worm made it out.

He had lost Missandei. They both had. She had been beautiful. She had been loyal. She had been intelligent, and bright, her smile like the sun over the Bay of Dragons. She had been there through the hardest of times, she had found love! And she was gone. Cersei was a brutal mistress, cruel, heartless. Dany hated her. Despised her. She deserved everything she got from this day. The city was fallen already, but Dany knew she would do whatever it would take to remove her from the throne that belonged to her. 

It did belong to her, no matter what Varys may have said. She had been through so much, had led Dothrakki, Unsullied, mercenaries, liberated the entirety of the Bay of Dragons, decimated an institution that destroyed lives by the hundreds, by the thousands. She had done good work there. She had learned what had to be done, hard choices, but she had made it better. Daenerys hoped to be back, to help continue to rule there. But not before she liberated Westeros too. She had already saved it from one threat, she would save it from another tyrant too. 

Dany was glad she had come to Westeros. They had needed her. She had been helpful. Even though she had lost Rhaegal, Viserion, Missandei, and even Jorah, who her heart yearned for his solid company. He had protected her, and he had fallen, like Barristan Selmy before him. Loyal people. Her friends, her advisers, people who knew what she stood for and stood for her. They had died believing that she could do good, all of them. And she had. The Night King was dead. And Cersei would be too. Westeros, liberated.

Bells rang. Loudly, they rang. In the back of her mind, what Tyrion had said came to her. If the bells ring, the city has surrendered. The war is over. Daenerys felt Drogon breath underneath her, the machine of destruction that was her son, could feel the calling of fire, of wrath. They had resisted! They had killed Missandei! Rhaegal! Cersei had...

And now she would meet her fate. She looked over the city. It was a beautiful thing. Full of people who would love her. There would be peace. Daenerys took Drogon to the sky, and turned him around, landing him in the grass outside the ruined walls. She dismounted, tenderly pressing her hand to the side of his head, before she turned back to King’s Landing. She entered as Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, walking straight backed and assured through the deserted streets, looking forward to the days when they would be filled with the citizens celebrating her coronation. 

“You can’t be serious!” Gendry exclaimed! Because it was absolutely absurd. His suggestion would only end up with them getting in more trouble. Because their excuse that they were “just leaving” had not saved them from the biggest earful they had all received since they were children. Gendry was very surprised that the clerk had not simply ejected them entirely. Instead, they were placed inside an actual room, as if to put them in time out. Or maybe to remove the negative influence. Regardless, all Gendry truly wanted to do was get his face stitched up. And go home.

That was a lie. He wanted to say. He wanted to see the girl with the eyes and the mouth and nose again. Arya Stark he reminded himself. Regardless of the lecture they had received, it had still been worth it. Well, it had been worth one time getting in trouble. Getting in trouble twice, as Lommy was suggesting, his hands on the door handle, about to pull the door free. “They are right next door Gendry! I saw them through the crack in the door!”

“Why were you looking into someone else’s hospital room? What if someone had been I don’t know, giving birth in there!” Gendry protested louder. His voice loud was kind of scary he knew. But Lommy and Hot Pie had known him for too long to be scared.

“Always gotta know your surroundin’s Gen,” Hot Pie said with a smile, standing up from his stool and moving over towards the door. Gendry shook his head, muttering that that was a dumb nickname. Now that they both thought it was a good idea it was going to happen. Gendry stood, his head pounding with both pain and the thought of seeing her face again. It had to be one of the most beautiful he had ever seen. With his seeming agreement, Lommy opened the door and they all exited into the hallway, stealthily walking a few yards to the other door, where at once Lommy and Hot Pie put their ears to the door. Gendry scowled, of course they had to be the ones listening. Weren’t they just looking to hook him up? It was seconds before Hot Pie’s face lit up, excited and exhilarated, and Lommy’s grin became almost devious.

“She’s totally fucking into you dude,” Lommy whispered. Gendry’s eyes widened. He had been sure that he would have been forgotten in an instant. Of course, now that they had done a second creepy thing, they were definitely being lost. Only if they were caught though. That thought came seconds too late as Gendry rushed forwards, accidentally knocking Hot Pie over, poor kid had terrible balance. Hot Pie of course, couldn’t handle it gracefully, instead crashing into the wall and making an echoey sound. Silence came from behind the door, and then it was opened.

There was the girl’s friend who had opened the door, and Arya Stark on the bed, lying there. Gendry tried his best to play it off by leaping to his feet and smiling, waving. “Hi, we were just…”

“Eavesdropping.” Arya’s expression indicated she did not think it particularly funny. Gendry swallowed. Off to a pretty bad start. Lommy and Hot Pie leaped to their feet next to him, their own grins so large he was surprised they weren’t both dosed with laughing gas. Maybe they were. Would explain a couple things.

in which sansa plays her emotional card

“This is why I don’t hang out with you,” Arya protested, glaring right at Sansa, who sat in a rather uncomfortable looking metal chair beside Arya’s hospital bed. They’d run through all the diagnostic crap and given her some painkillers. They’d give her actual anesthesia too soon, but for now they were just waiting. Some doctor would then come and stitch her up and she’d be free to go. All there was to it really. Unless of course, Sansa had her way.

“They’re right next door to us sis, I swear. It’s a sign! I got up to go to the bathroom and they were just walking in. You could get up and stand next to the wall and hear everything they’re saying. Because they’re loud as all get out.” Sansa would not quit. Because Arya had admitted once, once!, that the guy was hot. Technically, not even that! She had merely said, “his eyes”, which, to be entirely fair could mean anything. Maybe she was sketched out because his eyes were milky because he was blind. “Also, I heard that, and I’m very hurt, but I’m willing to forgive you if you just go and talk to him!” Sansa continued to protest.

“He is a stranger Sansa, a stranger currently being treated for a head injury.” This was a tired argument, one she wanted to just dismiss so she could go snog said stranger. Because damn, even if she didn’t say it, she knew, he was smoking. Arya very much wanted every piece of him there was to offer.

“In modern pick-up culture, someone being a stranger is no excuse. We live in a world where if you think someone’s cute you talk to them and go from there. In this essay,” Arya threw… nothing at her. She needed this hard, weird hospital pillow. She wanted to throw it sure but she wasn’t going to.

“Sansa please. I don’t want to. Even if I did want to, I shouldn’t leave. I’m being treated for my head injury too, remember?” She said, pointing to the wound on her forehead. Sansa finally seemed to lose some of the wind in her sails.

“Listen, Ar, I just…” Sansa pursed her lips and closed her eyes for a second. “It’s been a while, for me. Joffrey fucked me up, you know?” She hesitated. Great, now they were having a moment, and Sansa was going to cry or something and then Arya would have to. Which would be the least problematic part. Also, she was here for her sister, despite her inner monologue being kind of dismissive. She knew Joffrey had done a number. “I’m sorry for trying to live through you. Maybe I’ll just go talk to him myself…”

“NO!” Arya cried out, very suddenly, then blushed sheepishly. Well if that wasn’t revealing of her actual feelings on the matter, then nothing would be. Sansa, for her part, grinned widely.

“The second you’re done getting stitches we’re sitting outside their room waiting for them to come out.” Arya nodded, knowing this time she’d actually lost. It had been a solid match but sometimes her sister just beat her. Persistent she was. A crash at the door sounded, and Sansa stood, eyebrows raised towards Arya as she walked towards the door, and dramatically opened it.

A continuation of yesterday!

“She was so hot, dude, dude!” Lommy would not shut up. Gendry supposed he did not know what to expect but still it was annoying as all get out. Gendry was barely paying him any mind, watching the girl that had attracted all of their attentions (the whole room really, it wasn’t just their trio), with her spontaneous shout. Somehow it was louder than Lommy and Hot Pie’s bickering over how they’d tell the story of the scar that was forming on his forehead. There was bears in some version, but none of it was true. Gendry was certain they just didn’t want to get him in trouble for assaulting someone, which technically he’d done. Only because they were threatening these two fucking morons.

Gendry was tough, the bruises that would form on his chest by the morning hardly bothered him, but the pulsing wound on his forehead, that really really hurt. Before he’d been trying his best to distract himself from it. Now, he was merely interested in her eyes. Gray, like an approaching storm, silver like the steel of a machine. Oh but she was hardly a machine. No, that would be stupid. She had a pulse, unlike most of his company. Aside from these two.

“She’s leaving,” Hot Pie whispered across Lommy’s lap into Gendry’s ear. He furrowed his eyebrows and glanced to his smaller, rotund friend.

“She’s already gone,” He said. She’d been gone for several minutes. The girl. What had the clerk announced when she left? Arry? Rya? Something… like that.

“Not her her! The other clerk! She’s gone! Now’s our chance!” Hot Pie said, before practically leaping to his feet and scurrying across the room, vaguely sneaky. It wasn’t, but it looked like what Hot Pie thought sneaky was. Lommy was already joining Hot Pie when Gendry called for them to stop. Whisper called.

“What are you doing!” No response, just more “sneaking”. He followed, lumbering to his feet, the blood pounding in his forehead. He really needed to lie down. They slipped around the counter, and when Gendry met them, Hot Pie was slowly opening the door. “What are you doing!” Gendry repeated. They looked at him. Clearly they had discussed this while he had been obsessing over her eyes. This is what he got for not listening to him.

“We’re finding out her name and shit from the papers. Obviously.” Lommy answered, and just like that they were inside the door. Gendry swore under his breath and looked around, whirling his head back and forth to try and catch sight of anyone around, like you know, hospital employees. Nothing. He swore again, then followed in. Now on the opposite side of the counter from where they had been. A few of the other people waiting noticed, but they didn’t say anything.

“This is so creepy and stalkery!” Gendry protested, but they weren’t listening to him. They looked through all of the papers, rooting through binders quickly. He shook his head and began to look through them too, the ones right where the clerks had been standing.

A bell rung, the sound of the door opening, and a woman and a little girl walked in, the girl looking that special kind of miserable that only a very sick person can quite reach. Lommy and Hot Pie quickly ducked underneath the counter and hissed at him to pretend to be a clerk. He looked at them, miffed at their ability to get him into the worst fucking situations.

“EXCUSE ME,” The mother announced loudly, calling everyone’s attention. “My girl needs help. Now.” Gendry’s mind raced. What the fuck did clerks do. Hand paperwork out. He had to find that. He did, fortunately quickly, and looked up to the woman, putting it out on the counter.

“Just fill that out, I think.” Gendry said. Then he tried to smile like a helpful clerk. The woman was very confused, judging by the expression and gestured towards her forehead. Right. He was bleeding profusely. He moved his own hand up and winced as he touched it. “This? Nothing. Please, take a seat.” They did hesitantly. He also wasn’t in hospital scrubs. Gendry looked down to a tittering Lommy and Hot Pie, and swore at them. Then he looked back to the papers, and found it.

“Arya Stark,” He whispered, and suddenly knowing her name. That made it all okay. Every bit of it. He knew her name, Arya. Arya Stark. It was wonderful, he could sing it aloud like in West Side Story. A cough came from behind him, and he and his two friends all turned simultaneously. There a clerk was standing, tapping her foot, arms crossed.

“Would you shut up!” Arya whisper-hissed at Sansa, who merely kept up that mocking smile, that menacing terrible smile. She did raise an eyebrow though, very satisfied that she was irritating her sister. Because what else were sisters good for if not for irritating? Nothing Arya was pretty sure.

“He’s just so cute. And I know you’ve always wanted a guy who could take a hit.” Arya sighed aggressively, rolling her eyes and looking away while Sansa tittered.

“Very funny.” She muttered in return, glancing back to the guy in question. Given they were in an emergency room waiting area, it was perhaps not the most surprising that he was injured but still… He looked rock solid, strong as a bull and powerful. His two friends chattered at him incessantly, and loudly too, Arya could hear them from over here. The guy though, the guy was silent. Pitch silent. That wasn’t a phrase. He was expanding her vocabulary just by looking at him. He looked away from the other two, staring off into space, probably trying not to focus on the pain.

“Just go over and talk to him!” Sansa would not leave well enough alone. Arya was not particularly interested in finding her next date in the waiting room of a hospital. That was pretty stupid.

“He has a head injury!” Arya protested, and she could feel them getting louder with each passing remark in the argument. Blood pulsed from the guy’s forehead. It was nasty. Maybe it’d leave a scar.

“So do you!” Rickon had thrown a snowball at her. It accidentally had a rock in it. He had cried about it more than she had. Still, she imagined her face was just as bloodstained. Maybe a little less. “It’s a conversation starter.” Sansa continued, and Arya could hear the simple glee in her voice, a simple enjoyment of this situation. Sansa liked this… the whole dating thing. She did it a lot. Arya was not as interested. She was pickier maybe, or maybe the ideals of romance didn’t sit right, or maybe… She just didn’t, okay? She didn’t need to explain herself to her own inner monologue. The point was Sansa was having too much fun with this, and Arya was not going to talk to him partially because to do so would mean Sansa won. And Arya was not about to let anyone win anything. Particularly not involving her and some guy. “It’s just so romantic! Both struck on the same day, matching scars, a lovely conversation where you berate his friends for being the loudest thing since a Metallica concert. And then you jump his bones…”

“Sansa!” Arya shouted, glancing at her sister for a second before going back to enjoying the view… fuck he’d turned his head. He was looking right at her. Right at her. His eyes were startling. She had imagined some baby cow brown, big and cute but no malice in them. It’d fit the farmhand body he had. But no. They were blue. Demanding blue, fierce, unrelenting blue. They were gorgeous and she could not look away. “Fuck,” Arya muttered, not breaking the eye contact. “His eyes, Sansa,”

“I win,” Her sister whispered.

When time had passed, Gendry went back to work. Break was over, people needed their cars fixed. Arya came too, dropped off by Sansa. And it was awkward, but he kept himself away from her, locked in the garage while she in fact worked the shop. Few customers, but enough that he had himself busy, and could keep his mind off her.

Theoretically, he could do that at least. It wasn’t really working out that way. Ultimately, all he could think of was Arya in the next room, working, on her phone, etc. And him, here. Not with her.

She had rejected him though, and he would respect that. He had to. If there was one thing he loved most about Arya it was that flaming spirit, the independent and choice oriented way she existed, and to try and force himself upon her… That was kind of against the point wasn’t it? So he’d try and drink, and work, and just move on. It wouldn’t work like that, would it?

~

“You’re heading back to school soon right?” Mott had returned, the old man talking to his two employees at the same time, though he did in fact seem wary of the tension between them. It was hard not to be. Gendry was choking on it every time he was within fifty feet of her. Arya nodded. Mott pursed his lips, thinking. He had seemed satisfied with the job his protege had done in the meantime, though he did ask over the poor yelp review, which Gendry explained and Mott understood. “Well, if you’d like, you can keep working till you gotta go back,” Arya seemed taken aback, and Gendry knew that if he could see himself he’d look the same. Arya… he wanted her close but far away at the same time. It was unfair, the mix of everything but nothing. He would do anything for some relief. He would also do anything that made Arya be closer to him, even if he couldn’t have what he had wanted, a romantic exchange of affection and physical intimacy, Arya was his best friend. He wanted that back at least. “Is that a problem?” Mott asked, miffed by the confusion and surprise. Gendry breathed in sharply and turned away from them, just as Arya glanced to him. He looked out the window, where snow fell softly, accumulating.

“No, sir, I just wasn’t expecting it,” Arya answered, clearly making an effort to pretend all was alright. “I’m a college student right? We’re all broke. I’ll gladly keep working.” Mott nodded briefly, Gendry noticed as he turned back, curious at the job offer. Mott caught Gendry’s eye.

“Good. I’m getting fucking old, and I think I need a longer break. Gendry’s doing just fine with the cars and I assume you haven’t scared off anyone who’s not already a witch. So I’m going to go back to bed.” And he left. Arya sighed some, and looked to Gendry, whose lips were pursed. Their eyes met, and it was clear… No relief was to be had. Not for this. Gendry turned and went into the garage.

~

The day came to a close, and Gendry watched as the sun sank lower and lower, the bright spot behind the clouds vanishing slowly. Snow had indeed begun to cover the world in large spots, the coating swiftly having become a layer. He began to lock up, shutting down lights and moving into the shop as the clock struck six. Arya had her jacket on, just waiting for Gendry to leave. He passed by her, arms brushing slightly, and both stiffened. Gendry moved past though. No ground was being made. Another day. He could talk to her, another day, figure out, maybe, how to have what they had before back. What, now that he’d been cut off from, he wanted more than anything. He walked to his car, and Arya to hers, paths diverging in the parking lot. Until he kicked up some snow.

Gendry stopped. He breathed in the cold air, and turned his head to watch Arya’s jacket.

SMACK

He pegged her with a snowball. Fuck this. He wanted his friend back. Arya whirled, ponytail flying in the air, fury illuminating her features. Gendry smiled broadly. Yes! Yes! This was Arya. “The fuck!” She shouted. “It got under my jacket I’m going to freeze!” Gendry bent over and began to ball up another snowball, and Arya just as soon got the idea, and she was not about to be beaten, regardless of his surprise attack advantage.

The snowballs flew hard and fast, and Gendry was covered faster than he’d have thought possible, because, to be entirely honest, she was much better at this than he was. Finally she caught him on the side of his head, and he laughed brightly, falled to his knees. “Fine! Fine! I give!” He looked to her, standing over him, triumphant. She threw the last snowball she had in her hands (hitting his coat), then sunk down to the ground too. They’d be very cold and wet by the end of all this. They watched each other, red in both their cheeks from the cold, and from the embarrassment. “There, now wasn’t that better?” He asked. Arya blushed harder, and suddenly looked sheepish.

“I just… I want to be more Gendry. You know that. And I felt like you were a distraction.”

“Did you find me distracting?” Gendry interrupting, feeling mirthful.

“Shut the fuck up. Yes, a little. Anyway… I couldn’t stand being called nothing, or being treated like I’m going to fail because I’m not following the path a woman should. So I tried to cut myself off from everything but you’re right. It didn’t work. I just felt worse and worse.” Gendry breathed heavily, they both did, but as seconds passed, he spoke up again.

“Cutting people out is never the answer. I’ll always support you. Whatever you need, I’ll give. Even without us… kissing if that’s what you want. It doesn’t matter to me. I just need you in my life. And distractions are good. Soothing.” Gendry gestured wildly around him to the falling snow, and to them, collapsed in it. “I needed this. I think you did too.” The dark made it harder to read Arya’s expression, but finally, she stood up again, and walked over to him. She offered him a hand. He took it.

As she pulled him up, she pulled him close, into a warm embrace. Gendry returned it. His wolf girl tiptoed up to kiss him on the cheek, and Gendry smiled, happy. “I guess I did. I just…”

“I know. Joffrey and Cersei and family. I believe you. But we don’t need anyone else’s validations. Just… you and me.”

“Cool. Um… White Harbor? I’m cold. I could do with something warm.” Gendry smiled, peeling himself away from Arya, who indeed seemed to be feeling a lot better, about herself. And about her struggles. Gendry was glad he had provided the snowball to the face that had made her realize that fun was an integral part to life, whether you wanted something out of it or not.

Gendry woke and dressed himself in a daze, glancing lazily to the phone which buzzed half-heartedly. Texts from Lommy, Hot Pie, Mott. Wishes for a merry christmas, and invitations for a beer with the former two. Nothing from any Starks. He hadn’t expected anything. Mrs. Stark was very focused upon ensuring family moments were spent as a family (additional friends were welcome but had to abide by the following rule), and such no phones. Gendry breathed deeply, frustrated, clenching his fists, were his nails a tad longer he might’ve drawn blood from the grip. He had failed Arya, and that was what hurt the most, that he could not give her what she wanted, even though that had been him for a moment. Gendry clambered out of his bedroom, slamming his door shut behind him, and making his way down the stairs, into his car, and starting it, letting the vehicle warm itself up as he shot a reply back to his friends, saying he’d be there soon. They were all misfits, left behind. They had no one else for this familial holiday. So a beer with a couple dicks with nothing better to do was good enough.

~~

Arya sat, nestled in a blanket on the floor, hot chocolate in hand, her hair and mind both rather tangled. She was tucked into a heavy sweater that she had just unwrapped, a gift from her mother, watching Rickon pull out a guitar from a large box, and then Sansa a pretty blue (Arya didn’t know what gemstones were blue… sapphires?) necklace. A Stark Christmas. Arya wasn’t having a bad time, but she wished… something. She didn’t wish that she could have Gendry back, wrapping his arms around him, pressing electric lips to hers. Well, if she was being honest, yes she did, but that wasn’t really it. She mostly wished that she could just tell him things again. Be honest, expose herself, let everything be free. Instead of balled up deep within her, with no release. Arya took a sip of her drink, and opened another gift, smiling and laughing joyously and graciously at Rickon’s gift of beautifully painted rocks. This was Christmas still. She wouldn’t let herself drag anything down. But as it passed around again, Robb and Jeyne opening each other’s gifts, Arya resolved something quietly. She would talk to Gendry. Because she wouldn’t let this go unresolved. That had been the point of the kiss, to resolve things, unfortunately, it hadn’t worked out like that.

~~

Gendry was surprisingly, not wasted. He thought he might become so, but the beers just made him feel more agitated, more emotional, and more frustrated. So he’d stopped drinking early, and went back home. And he walked the stairs back up, it was late afternoon now, and now sounds of children playing echoed from those family apartments. Gendry turned the corner to where his apartment lay, and someone stood before his door, waiting to knock, pressured. A short, slim figure, with hair tied back messily. “Arya,” He declared, surprised.

~~

“Gendry!” Arya turned surprised. She hadn’t expected him to be here. Outside. She’d expected him to be, you know, inside the apartment she stood in front of the door of. Fuck fuck fuck. His tall and broad frame loomed a short distance away, his hair slightly messy, unkempt. Arya had slipped away, claiming she needed to give him his gift (which she did, though she didn’t have it with her now… needed to do something else first and foremost), and because it was no longer the morning, she had been released to do as she pleased. So here she was, startled, but she needed to do something.

~~

“I’m sorry,” “I’m sorry,” The simultaneous apologies came at once, and for a moment, though both had been willing to explain, neither did. Then Arya rushed into the silence. “Listen, I just needed to get off that chest, because I’d wanted to for so long and I hadn’t done it and I need to… get away from it.” Arya’s explanation did nothing but frustrate Gendry, as it played into his fears, that he wasn’t enough for her.

“I didn’t mean to fail you. I wanted to be everything I could for you, and I’m sorry that I’m not.”

“You’ll be everything for someone but you’re too much for me. I can’t have distractions.” Gendry was confused by this last line, but Arya was too distracted by herself to even notice that. The moment passed, and they realized that over time they had ended up close to each other again, like last night. A breath apart. Arya wanted Gendry, but felt she couldn’t have him and be an adult with a career and a life. Gendry wanted Arya, but more than that, wanted her to be happy.

Arya did not prefer dresses, but she had learned to get along with them. Coexist as it were. Agree to disagree. Arya glanced at the mirror for a moment, then looked away. Looking didn’t change anything, just made her feel more anxious about herself. Which, if could be avoided, should be. “Arya! Let’s go!”

“On my way!” She called back down the stairs. She took another glance, and immediately looked away again (hard thing to not do) and took off down the stairs. Sansa, Bran, Rickon, Robb, Jeyne, Mom, Dad, all were here. Jon had opted to take his own way, and of course Theon was doing the same. For all he was around, it was easy to forget Theon wasn’t actually part of the family. A last survey that all were present and ready, they boarded the limousine (it was in fact kind of a lot, but when shipping all the Starks at once, there’s rarely a better option) and drove. It was a quiet ride, uneventful for the most part. Various conversations happened, but Arya’s mind was elsewhere. This was a social function, the kind of thing she despised. Gendry would be her best option. Just had to find him and then everything would be okay.

The Baratheon mansion already seemed to be busy the moment they arrived, and they had arrived perfectly on time (mother did that, scheduled things and forced the entire world to adhere to said schedule). So these people were all just early, stupid. Robert Baratheon’s guffawing laughter carried across the hall, and it took scarcely a moment before the man was wrapped around her father. It was barely a moment more and her family had vanished from around her. Or… no it had been her who had split. She had slipped away. She didn’t want to be there anyway. So she left.

“Well, well, look who we have here?” Sneering and cold voice. Derisive tone. Ugly mug. Joffrey appeared in her peripheral. Arya didn’t look at him, continuing on her way to the table that held a delightful pile of meats and cheeses. A bad idea in retrospect, as he stood next to her, leaning over the table, leering at her from his angle. Joffrey was a dipshit and that took absolutely one moment of knowing him to know why. Unfortunately, he was a handsome dipshit. Sansa had made that error. She had gotten free of his clutches of course, but it had gotten ugly. Uglier than his cold dead heart? No, but ugly all the same. “You do look good tonight. It’s a miracle really, considering how unfortunate a sight you used to be. Hmm, I guess I can see where the Stark look can be considered attractive. Wild, unkempt,” His tone had slithered down to sultry, and Arya was smart enough to know he was toying with her, being insulting for fun, while being mock seductive because he thought it would get under her skin. Unfortunately for her, it took almost nothing to get under her skin.

“The fuck do you want dickbag?” Arya said with a scowl, turning to face him entirely. His smile broadened, clearly happy that he had pulled a response from her.

“Tch tch, language. I’m surprised at you. Starks despite said wildness are supposed to be honorable folk, beyond such vulgar things. But you’ve never been beyond much have you Arya?” Arya stared him dead in his snake like green eyes. She hated him so much. He represented a lot of what she despised about this culture. And more than that, he was abusive and cruel.

“I asked you a question, you owe me an answer.” Arya snapped back.

“I don’t owe you anything,” Joffrey answered leisurely, eyes flicking from hers to his nails. Derisive, manipulative. Piece of shit. “But I just heard that you’re into that half-ass they call Waters and was curious if you’d like to try on a real Baratheon to realize your error before you go much further.”

“I could kick your ass,” Arya breathed, fists clenching. Fuck the gown, it didn’t matter. She could kick this little idiot’s ass without breaking a sweat. It wouldn’t take effort.

“You won’t though,” His casual arrogance was infuriating, and she lined up her shot. She could knock him out right here, his teeth splashing across the meats and cheeses, a terrible surprise for future guests, but she didn’t care.

“Try me,” She seethed, and he looked back to her lazily, but still vicious. The male lion who knew he had women to do the killing and hunting but still remained king.

“Grow up Arya. You’re nothing, and you’ll become more so if you end up with the bastard. It’s time for you to learn to let things go, and realize when you’re beat. In the real world, where I’m the heir of a massive corporation and you’re the slight daughter of a lesser industry with an eye for a mechanic.” Arya watched him, and he watched her. He was right, wasn’t he? She’d had these same thoughts just a few nights ago. He was right. She did need to do that exact thing. “Come here little wolf. I’ll give you a breath of what famous is, what power and influence means, just need a kiss right here.”

He was right. He was still a dickbag. Arya hit him. He was surprised, but Arya was gone. Joffrey seethed, wiping blood from his chin. He laughed as Arya slunk into a crowd that gawked, feeling the victory he had achieved.

Arya found a balcony, and stood out there for a while. It got a little cold, but her dress was long and modest (she wasn’t stupid, wasn’t going to wear something short, it’s winter out here, and she didn’t need to impress anyone).

Arya knew Joffrey had been correct, correct as one could be. She was being childish, and had been for too long. She’d confirmed this to herself. She however, hadn’t connected it to Gendry. Joffrey was right about that too of course, she liked Gendry, she liked the way he smiled at her, she liked the way he scowled when she teased him, she liked the way he never turned her away. She thought she heard someone step onto her balcony, and she turned slightly, catching sight of him.

“I’ve been looking for you dummy!” She cried out, harshly. She’d needed him earlier when Joffrey was around but he had been absent. Probably not technically his fault but still.

She pulled him out to the actual balcony, out from the doorway as he mumbled, protesting slightly. “Didn’t seem like you were looking very hard if you’ve just been out here,”

“Shut up, let’s just… stay out here. In there it’s hot and crowded. Out here it was lonely, but now, conveniently, it’s not.” She continued, taking her hand away as they reached the edge. Arya leaned out, looked out. Gendry was here, and she could rely on him. He was nothing if not grounding, he kept her focused, he kept her right. But she didn’t need him, couldn’t need him, right? She needed to grow up, move past, move on. Succeed, crush the world under her foot. Dominate, change. But she couldn’t do that as a child who had a silly crush.

“All cool?” He asked her, his breath warm in the cool winds. She looked to him. Tall, broad, chiseled. Strong but not cruel the way Joffrey was, tolerant and kind really, Gendry was everything wasn’t he? But she couldn’t let herself have him. To have him would be to deny herself a future. Because she needed to let go of the past in order to have a future.

“No,” She whispered, saddened by this realization. But she wasn’t going to let this go, not without something. She kissed him, pulling him down towards her. And it was everything she dreamed it would be, hot and passionate and awesome. He kissed her and pressed his warm hands to her back and everything might be alright. Right? No. This was a last chance, an opportunity to take, but nothing but a souvenir. A memory, a dream fulfilled. Gendry was hard, but he relaxed with her, let things go. She just needed to find a way to let this go. Snowflakes fell, and Arya pulled away. Time to go.

Arya left, his voice calling for her desperately for answers, but she couldn’t give them to him. Not right now, at least. She called an uber, and left the party.

~

Sansa peeked in on her when everyone else got home. Her orange hair framed a concerned face. Arya raised an eyebrow, questioning Sansa’s unasked question. Her sister then walked in, closing the door behind her.

“Gendry told me what happened.” Sansa said, as if expecting answers. Arya didn’t say anything, her eyes dropping from Sansa. Moments passed, and Sansa pushed again. “He’s confused, and I can’t blame him. What went wrong? I figured the moment something pushed you two together things would be happily ever after.” Arya pressed her lips together, then looked to her sister, gorgeous, life together Sansa. She didn’t need any help figuring things out. She had grown up long ago. Arya was lagging behind.

“Gendry isn’t for me. I… I can’t.” Arya protested. Sansa seemed continually confused, and concerned still.

Gendry straightened his bowtie, looking in the mirror, then glancing down to the phone leaning against the wall next to it. Arya waved her head back and forth, as if thinking on it, then smiled and nodded. Gendry sighed in relief, glad this little fashion show was over.

“Alright, I’ll see you soon!” She said, clearly about to shut off the call.

“Hey wait!” Gendry called, scowling. She held up, tilting her head as in a question. “Don’t I get to help you now?” Gendry said, calling foul. Arya blushed sharply, and shook her head.

“I have a sister. You have me, and jacksquat else. Unless Hot Pie knows how to wear a bow tie?” Gendry rolled his eyes and sighed.

“Hot Pie ties wonderful bow ties. I’ll see you there milady.” Her sharp cry of protest was cut off as Gendry did the hanging up. He smiled wryly at the black screen, the tease still sinking in satisfactorily. Fuck did he enjoy Arya. He liked her a lot, too much. It was no good. But they were friends, and he wouldn’t risk that for anything.

~

Gendry pulled up, driving through his father’s hallowed gates, the mansion lit up like a christmas tree. “Hmph,” Gendry thought it looked nice enough, but it was a little conspicuous. Seemed to him like it aimed to make anyone who wasn’t there for the party feel bad. Not his problem for now though. Because he was at the party.

He entered through the door, allowed in by a butler/bouncer (dressed very nicely, but very burly, hard to tell). Christmas music was played by a live band, instrumental of course, these people weren’t monsters. Gendry had to stop himself from scoffing as he moved in further, the whole atmosphere at once feeling shallow and overgrown with weeds. He didn’t like this kind of thing, but Arya had been right. Friends.

He was tackled by a small frame, and thus didn’t move an inch. “Gendry!” The voice cried. Gendry looked to his little friend, and saw Tommen, who was still small despite being mid-high school by now.

“Hey bro, how you doing?” He really didn’t see his half-siblings often enough. Mostly because one third of them was a horrible monster, and because their mother was a sea witch.

“Merry Christmas!” Tommen replied, skirting the question, presumably not because things were bad; Tommen’s life as far as Gendry could tell was kittens and roses.

“Merry Christmas to you too,” Gendry said with a soft smile, ruffling his hair, then looked up. Myrcella approached, in a much more dignified manner. She did look… exactly like her mother, to the point it was almost startling. But she was kind, and peaceful. Gendry gave her a nod and a wave and a smile, and she was glad to give the same before being distracted by others. Tommen had let go by now, and hurriedly told Gendry they’d have to talk later, which was for the best, he was barely in the door and there were other people he wanted to find. Primarily Arya because he lived for when he saw her in fancy dresses. Part of it was of course the elegance of the gown, and another part was seeing her in this state of irritation at the whole world around her, which was Arya at her most honest and beautiful. It was the Arya who wanted to demolish society, with both hatred for those who had and love for those who didn’t have.

“Wrench boy, get over here!” The sharp voice belonged solely to Theon fucking Greyjoy, his middle name as far as Gendry was concerned. Gendry rolled his eyes and moved over, puffing up his chest and rolling up his shoulders as he turned towards Theon. Theon raised an eyebrow, then pushed Gendry in the chest with a single finger. The bugger was wearing a sleek outfit, fashionable and outstanding to the nth degree, and wore a grin the size of a country mile. “Push-ups?” He asked curiously. Gendry let go of his breath and laughed loudly, clapping Theon on the shoulder.

“Where’s the rest of the mob that has to deal with you?” Gendry asked, looking around, knowing anywhere Theon was to be seen, Robb would surely be coming. And Robb was responsible enough to know where the rest of his family was. Theon shrugged, slinking up against the wall, pressing a drink to his lips. It was a martini glass, clear alcohol.

“Robb went to go introduce the rest of the world to his wife, I stuck around here. Third-wheeling isn’t my thing, you know?” Gendry nodded vaguely, though he wasn’t really listening to Theon, just looking for a spritely girl shouting at someone. Theon sighed, and shook his head.

“Haven’t seen her my friend. And I don’t know man, might be time to let this one go? You’ve been at it for a while and made little ground.” Gendry shifted his gaze sharply to Theon, glaring intensely. Theon shrugged half-heartedly. “Just a thought.” Gendry sighed, then looked away, back into the mob of low-backed gowns and tuxedos. Theon was wrong, but for reasons he couldn’t quite express. Maybe another time. For now, he had to find Arya. Theon pushed himself off the wall, hitting him lightly on the shoulder. “I’m going to go find a wonderful young maiden to share a drink with. If you want to, join me, you could use a good wing man. It’ll be no problem too, look at this big burly frame, chicks dig it.” Theon shot him one last grin and a finger gun, then moved towards the crowd.

“Just not my sister! Or your sister for that matter!” Gendry called back. A middle finger was raised in return, and Theon was gone. Gendry breathed. He’d find Arya, and then everything would be okay. This whole… thing would be easier with her around. Because at that point, she’d be causing trouble and he’d just be an accessory. Gendry roamed about the party, engaging delicately with strangers, eating weird food samples Tommen would bring to him then vanish into the party again. He fortunately didn’t find Joffrey or Cersei, or his father for that matter (not that his father was so cruel, but it was not an encounter he wanted to do without Arya by his side). It was getting late and he still hadn’t found her. The party wasn’t dying down by any means, but fuck did he wish she’d just show up. He moved out onto the balcony, breathing deeply the chilly air, and stepping out onto the stone. A woman turned, and he realized he figured out this fucking puzzle.

“I’ve been looking for you dummy!” Her anachronistic voice as she moved away from the railing and towards him, moonlight illuminating her from behind, glimmering off a silver gown that went from her neck to her feet, slim fit and long sleeved. Gendry breathed deeply. She moved to him, taking him by the hand and pulling him back towards the end of the balcony.

“Didn’t seem like you were looking very hard if you’ve just been out here,” Gendry grumbled.

“Shut up. Let’s just… stay out here. In there it’s hot and crowded. Out here it was lonely, but now, conveniently, it’s not.” Gendry looked at her. She seemed in duress but he couldn’t quite tell, not with the starlight.

“All cool?” Gendry asked, curiously. Arya looked to him, and immediately he could see there was something there. It was the face someone had when they were breaking up with someone. Which of course, made no logical sense, as they were not together. She pressed her hand to his cheek, which was grizzled with half a beard.

“No,” She whispered, and pulled his head down and kissed him. Arya’s touch was precious, not soft but rough, callused from the work that she did, martial arts, engineering, punching bullies. It was needy but independent, fiercely so. She needed things but she would never admit it. Gendry gave and gave and gave, pressing his hands to her back, pulling her closer to him as she did the same. Her breath quickened, or was that his? His heart beating rapidly, he didn’t let his mind work, just allowing the moment to fill it. The winter winds blew around them, which made Arya’s body seem only warmer. He touched her hair, moving his fingers softly through her hair, lingering at the nape of her neck. Breaths lengthened to minutes, and everything stopped, until Gendry felt a snowflake hit his hand on the back of her head. And slowly it fell, sprinkling them, and Arya pulled away. She looked distraught now for sure, if she hadn’t before, and she ran off.

“Arya!” He called out, damning her for her sensible footwear, if she’d worn heels he’d be faster for once in his damned life. But she slipped back into the mansion. Gendry tried to follow, but there was no way. He sighed, the snow falling on him still. Confused and high on the fulfillment of a dream, Gendry lingered, until Sansa passed, popping onto the balcony.

“Have you seen Arya Gendry?” She asked, and Gendry shrugged. Sansa, perceptive as usual in an orange dress, shorter than Arya’s but he noticed little more about it, pushed him. “Did something happen?” Gendry had no reason to hold back the truth.

“She was upset. Then she kissed me. Then she was more upset, and left.” Sansa stood at the doorway, looking at Gendry who sat on a balcony bench, snow covering his suit and close cropped hair.

“Gendry?”

“Yeah?”

“Go home. I’ll, um, text you later. Or I’ll get someone to.” Gendry nodded, and stood, unfolding from the small seat. Sansa watched him for a little longer, then slipped away. Gendry wandered back into the party, which was now beginning to disperse. He… hadn’t hurt her had he? Had he done something wrong? He didn’t think so… but there wasn’t much another answer.

Arya watched Gendry drive away into the snow, and she breathed lowly, a sigh of relief and frustration at the sudden lack of him. He was not much, a mechanic with a low voice and stubborn attitude. But he was him.

She moved further into her home, a large mansion. The Starks had done well for themselves over generations, and Arya knew that she was lucky. Complaining about it was not something she tended to do, even when the society around her frustrated her to no end, every individual piece of expectation. Rickon waved from the top steps where he sat with Shaggydog, and Arya waved back, smiling to her younger brother, who appeared to be doing little than just sitting at the top of the steps, surely a nuisance for any who wished to ascend or descend. Arya slinked around the corner into the kitchen, which connected to the dining room. Sitting at that table were Sansa, Theon and Robb, chatting, smiling, laughing.

“Arya! Have you heard…” Sansa began but Arya waved her off, rolling her eyes.

“Of course. Cersei stopped by to invite Gendry, and I was there too, probably because I work there.” Arya countered immediately.

“Not what I meant, though glad you know about that too,” Sansa said with a knowing smile. Arya raised an eyebrow, desperately curious immediately why whatever piece of gossip Sansa had happened upon would be something Arya cared about. Her sister knew her well enough that Arya didn’t care for most simple updates about Freys or Tyrells. Robb waved to Arya and her eyes darted to the motion, and the gleaming ring around his finger.

~

Arya laid in her bed, music blasting. She wasn’t upset by the news. That was not the right way to quantify her feelings about Robb’s engagement to Jeyne. It was obvious that he would become so. He loved her. It was obvious to any looking upon them, even briefly. It was just… Arya felt immediately pressured. The world was changing. She wasn’t a child anymore, even though she pretended as much. Robb had his place in the company, making his own money, falling in love, marrying, starting a family. Arya was fooling around in a mechanic’s shop. Cersei’s words hadn’t meant anything really, they were just to antagonize her, but they were true. Arya had passed her semester, and done so without any close calls, but she wasn’t putting any effort into it. She wasn’t trying to make her life into one that meant anything, one that would bring her true joy, fulfillment. One that would change this world into one she was proud to live in.

She was putting things off. Robb’s engagement brought that into focus. Things wouldn’t stay the same anymore, regardless of if she was ready or not. She would need to… do something. And soon. She wasn’t a child, despite wanting to lose herself in the snow piles outside. She was a young woman, pursuing a career in engineering, who needed to grow up. Arya bit her bottom lip. These seemed like negative thoughts, but they weren’t. They all had a limited time on this damned planet, and Arya needed to spend most of it being fulfilled. So she would.

Time to grow up Arya.

Arya shut off the music, and the lights, and went to bed.

~

At a time indeterminate, for it was beyond the time that mortals stirred, her phone buzzed on her wooden bedside table. She groaned, not knowing why a single buzz had awoke her, but moved to check it anyway.

When the screen glowed in her squinting eyes, she realized why she was awake. It wasn’t one buzz. It was quite a lot. She flicked through her notifications, and it was clear what was going on. Gendry was drunk texting her. A frequent enough occasion. It was clear that he was drunk because he started his monologuing with a classy “im shitfaced”. It only continued. Arya smiled slightly as he complained about nearly everything, how warm he felt, how cold it was outside, how much he hated Cersei.

She should have anticipated this. Drunk Gendry loved to use Arya as an outlet. Drunk Gendry was rather talkative, so different from Sober Gendry. It was fun though. About half way down though, he switched. To declarations of her beauty. Weird, but not exactly the strangest. This had happened before.

“I miss u”

“I love u”

Arya breathed through her nose, blinking more of the sleep from her eyes. Her heart pounded, though she kept her brain functioning logically, easy because she wasn’t drunk.

“I just saw you. And you’re drunk.” She countered, keeping her texts grammatically stable. Hopefully it would help.

“So?”

“You’re not thinking straight. Go to bed, it’s the witching hour.” Arya watched the three dots flicker as Gendry typed something. Then she snorted as it popped up.

“Ive never been more straight” And next.

“But good night I think your right abt sleep.” Arya watched the screen glow for a while longer, wondering if he was in fact asleep, or just trying to head to bed. This made sense. He’d been through the ringer today when Cersei had ambushed them. Arya’s eyes flicked to the window. And he was right, it was cold outside. And she had been cute today. He had every right to complain. Arya breathed, looking back to the cold light of her phone screen. He was drunk. Grow up Arya.

Nothing sounded more like the holidays than the bells of White Harbor overshadowing soft Christmas music. It was something that ought to be held above all else as an example of what people do during this time. The same way Gendry loved snow, he loved his time here, breathing warm air, smelling warm smells, brushing Arya’s warm fingers. The ice and the fire were equal parts important to Gendry and his winter being perfect.

Of course, if Cersei had her way, that would be far from true. The invitation still frustrated him, his feelings of abandonment going far beyond these half-hearted attempts to fix them. Still, Arya had ultimately been right. She would be there, and if he was being entirely honest with himself, anywhere Arya went, he’d be happy to follow.

They walked up to the counter of the coffee shop, and Gendry noted the blond boy working the register, Ned his nametag read. “Hey Edric!” Arya called to him cheerfully, a smile warming her face, the bright white teeth contrasting against the red of her cheeks and nose. Ned worked here on occasions, and he was insufferable. A prick whose eagerness only came across as pathetic opposed to endearing.

“Hey Arya! Gendry,” And he didn’t understand that Gendry didn’t like him. Or, he refused to acknowledge it. Gendry grunted a reply, then turned away from the counter, brushing past Arya on his way to their booth, known for theirs because of the scratched in labels on the benches. They shouldn’t have done it, but they had been a little younger, and a little more stupid.

“Whatever,” He told Arya his order, and her smile continued to light up the store as she glanced to him.

“As always.” A dumb tradition, one he’d allowed her to continue. She would get something different every time she came, a small adventure she called it, and she would get Gendry the same thing. A kind of togetherness, having each others backs in the adventure. He sat, his massive frame kind of collapsing, relaxing in the familiarity instantly. His eyes flicked to the register where Ned and Arya laughed and smiled. He grimaced to himself, and turned his attention away.

They’d been friends for too long not to know the others romantic lives. They’d been through them together, from purely idiotic mistakes like Bella, to truly heartbreaking mistakes like Aegon. But it had been some years since either had pursued anything. Arya was taking a break for her studies, Gendry was… infatuated with Arya. He would deny it to anyone’s face, but it was getting too hard to deny to himself anymore. The way she confidently leaned forward on the counter, the casual clothing worn pragmatically yet being as fetching as a dress on a long-legged model. Her smile as she derided him for stubbornness or stupidity, the way she walked, the concerned glint in her eyes, long fingers holding coffee cups.

“What’s up?” Gendry blinked himself awake as Arya looked at him strangely, soft concerned smile across her face as she pulled off her jacket.

“Worried about the party. I don’t belong there.” He lied. It was a convenient lie, considering it was what he should really be thinking about, not the single painted fingernail she had. Arya grimaced, and Gendry reached for his cup, and took a sip, and promptly choked.

Arya’s grimace only deepened, and Gendry could only admire her expressiveness. “Bad?”

“The hell’d you put in it?”

“Fruit flavor.”

“Which fruit?”

Silence, as she embarrassedly tucked hair behind her ear.

“All.”

Gendry shook his head. “It’s coffee, not fruit punch Arya.”

“Worth a shot nonetheless.” She said confidently, reaching out for the cup and sipping. Judging from her face, he guessed she thought the same.

“Why do you like coming here anyway, if all you like is to fuck up drinks?” She shrugged, then changed the topic, the conversation apparently a non sequitur.

“You shouldn’t worry about it like that. I shouldn’t exist there either,”

“You’re different. You have the blood. You wouldn’t even need an invitation…” He trailed off, as he watched her mocking him by puppeting her hand, moving it open and close as if it were talking.

Arya sat on the roof of the car, overlooking Gendry as he labored. Silence passed between them, it was a simple moment. Looking outside the garage door, it was nearly dark, the sun having almost fallen below the horizon, but at this point the amount of clouds that swirled around it made it almost inconsequential. “Are you going to go?” Arya asked, finally breaching the subject.

It had been a few hours since Cersei Lannister’s (married to Gendry’s father she was a Baratheon technically, though like many famous people, she kept her last name despite the marriage) impromptu visit and invitation. Arya knew she upset Gendry, and Arya knew she upset her. Honestly the nerve… Arya was doing just fine in her classes. Being home for winter break was one of the few times she could let go of her studying. Cersei was just upset Arya wasn’t falling for the trap of her surroundings, marrying one of her father’s rich friends’ heirs, and was going to do something for herself, despite any who thought her wrong.

Gendry was upset because his family was a grotesque amalgamation of Cinderella’s evil Stepmother and neglectful father and abusive siblings. And they treated him like dirt because he worked for a living. A quality Arya respected more than any of Joffrey’s so-called promotions.

“I don’t know.” Gendry answered, not looking up to her. He was probably annoyed she wasn’t in the shop, but she was growing increasingly anxious, and besides, there were bells on the shop door for a reason. So she could harass Gendry and do her job at the same time obviously.

Arya shifted, laying on her stomach on the roof of the car and poking her head over the hood. “If you go I’ll go.” She promised. Gendry smirked as he brought his head up to meet her eyes, their faces close enough that their breath didn’t freeze between them for the body heat.

“I think I get plenty of you around here.” Arya scowled and Gendry chuckled, returning to his labor.

“Won’t it be good to see Tommen and Myrcella again?” Arya asked. Gendry’s silence prompted her to continue trying to goad him into it. “Jon and Robb will be there, Theon too. In all likelihood anyway. So you can have some guy friends or whatever, aside from Joffrey. Sansa and Margaery and some other hot girls will be in pretty dresses I’m sure.” His reddened ears made Arya frustrated for a moment (though the truth of the matter was he was embarrassed she thought he had anything for them). “And the food will be good. Fancy and rich, you know the deal.” He did know. Gendry wasn’t invited always, but he was often enough.

“Not as good as the soup down the street.”

“Ew!” Arya hated his favorite soup shop. It was dirt cheap, she’d give it that, but she suspected that was because the beef was rat and the broth toilet water. “See, that’s why you need to come. To break your palate into good food.” Gendry finally finished, and closed the hood, stretching and cracking his neck and back.

“You break my palate I might stop taking us to White Harbor. Don’t play with fire.” Gendry warned, though the smirk on his face was clear. He’d never stop. Empty threats as usual. He turned away from her, to the garage door where he hit the button that began to close it as Arya flipped off the roof of the car.

“I’ll go lock the shop!” Arya said excitedly, pulling the keys from her pocket. She did so for the front door, flipping the open sign to closed, then rushed through the back, locking that as she heard Gendry’s car start. The headlights blinded her for a moment and she shaded her eyes as he pulled through, leaning his now jacketed arms out the window, blue eyes confident and smile stupidly dazzling.

“Hop in.” He invited, and Arya did so, curving around the back and jumping into the passenger seat. She buckled her seatbelt as they drove, on their way to White Harbor.

“So…” She compelled. He sighed, and that was when Arya knew she’d broken him.

Breath exhaled turned to frost. Frost fell to the ground, chilling cement. Snow fell, sticking slightly to slick streets. Winter had come, and Gendry breathed heavily, pumping away with a wrench, bent over the hood of the car he was working on. The door to his garage was open, allowing him a view out to the sight he thought of. Inside, it was chilly of course, but nothing he couldn’t handle. He was always warm while working anyway. He looked across the smooth layer of winter that covered the streets and grunted to himself, contented. There was nothing he really liked more than these moments. His favorite season if he was being honest with himself.

He watched some children in puffy winter coats follow their mother down the sidewalk, holding tight to her gloved hands, distracted constantly by the small piles of flakes, kicking the snow. A pang of hurt crossed his heart, and he turned away, back to his labor. People needed their cars in working order this season, leaving his garage with the vehicle not in the best state it could be was not an option. Unfortunately, that meant they’d have to live without it for a few days while he ensured it was the best it could be, but that meant his customers would just have to walk a little bit more. And with the weather being so wondrous, why wouldn’t they want to?

“How long do you work?” The voice was a distraction, a little buzzing bee, a dog nuzzling up to his leg looking for attention. Arya peeked out from the door to the shop part of the garage. “And why the hell are you working in the cold?” His boss, Mr. Mott, wanted to vacation, but needed someone to run the actual shop part while Gendry focused on the actual mechanic part. Arya had volunteered before Gendry could suggest one of the other temps who had worked here previously. Mott liked Arya, and Mott loved the idea. Gendry thought the idea a poor one. And looking upon Arya’s spritely face, bundled in a sweater with a scarf, hair up in a messy style that could be described only as Arya, he knew why.

She couldn’t stay still. “Cold is best part of winter, I’m gonna enjoy it while I can.” Arya pouted, clearly thinking this was a dumb idea, and that he was going to freeze to death. And maybe he would, but he’d enjoy the cold first. “And at least until the sun goes down.”

“And after…” She offered, hopeful clearly, raising an eyebrow in an implied suggestion.

“Whatever you want my lady,” He said shaking his head slightly.

“Don’t call me that you big brute!” She shouted at him, throwing the door open with the intention to come towards him, swing maybe if he let her. The door rang as someone opened the shop and the bells that hung above were shaken.

“You have a customer,” Gendry answered her calmly, though judging by her soft “Shit!” and the sound of the door closing behind her, she was already on her way. The mechanic shook his head, entertained by Arya, but frustrated at the same time. He knew she wouldn’t be able to hold on to this working thing, she got antsy easily. It being winter outside didn’t help at all. It was her favorite season too after all.

The sound of arguments spread quickly from the shop into Gendry’s garage. Something was wrong. Arya did get along great with customers, generally speaking, that much couldn’t be denied. So something was up. He wiped his forehead with a rag, hoping he wasn’t leaving it dirtier than when he started, put down his wrench and moved to the shop. He opened the door to Arya staring down the customer. Though, she was more staring up, given the woman’s much taller stature. Gendry recognized her immediately.

“Oh good, he’s come regardless of you, whelp.” Cersei. His father’s current wife. More despicable than even his father. Gendry’s fist clenched, and he noticed that Arya’s hands were in the same state. “Robert wanted to extend an invitation to you, Gendry.” Cersei’s judging expression told him that he had in fact put more oil on his face, but then he remembered that was just her expression toward him, the dirty mechanic that did nothing but dirty everything he touched, his father’s reputation (as if it needed the help), her perfect family (again, no help needed), and her pristine shoes (he’d be glad to).

“Why isn’t he here to extend the invitation then?” Gendry coldly remarked, and he noted Arya looking between them, deciding whether she wanted to come to Gendry’s defense or just attack Cersei. Who, really, just looked bored.

“You know him. Busy, I was in the area, he decided I might as well do it. Anyway…” This was not an anyway situation. His fucking family needed to decide whether they wanted him around or not, because Cersei’s middle name was mixed messages. “Christmas eve at 7. Dress nicely, we might have other guests. Like this stray, who as I understand it, should be studying, not wasting time at some mechanic’s store.”

“Get the hell out of my shop!” Arya shouted. Evidently, Cersei had breached her last wall, and Arya walked forward aggressively, though she didn’t look like much, Gendry knew how much terror the girl could enact if she so desired. Cersei huffed, and turned, leaving her last message as the bells rang again.

“I’m going to leave poor review. The customer service is atrocious.” And she was gone. They both stared at the door, as if their stares could destroy it and her. Finally they turned to each other. Gendry let his hands relax, and looked upon Arya, who seemed still very angry about the situation. They both were. Gendry was at least glad he had an ally here with him.

“This shop isn’t yours.” Gendry noted, and Arya stared blankly at him, before laughing.

Gendry hadn’t been there.

It was hard to imagine a life where she was sane again without Gendry. He was a necessity to her. Without him she’d be a broken girl, a starved and lonely wolf, biting hands that offered bread and without her pack. The big bull here though, hadn’t let her push him away.

Not that first night in the first snowstorm that crushed the riverlands under its weight. When she wrapped her cloak thick around her as she passed a large man on his way home. When he called her name after she passed. Arya had turned to look, and remembered his strong chin and raven hair, and hope had bloomed in his blue eyes as she recognized the name. He had stepped towards her and Arya panicked, drawing her knife. “Go away!” She shouted. She couldn’t. It had been too long without him, she didn’t need him, she couldn’t have him. He stopped in his tracks, but didn’t turn away, just kept looking at her, and slowly a smile crept over his face.

“Arya… It’s me, Gendry.” Arya didn’t move, just swallowed air and saliva. She knew it was Gendry. It was hard to forget Gendry, who she had relied on from the moment her father died to the moment he abandoned her. “Come on. I have a house, and firewood, and food. Please,” His please came out with a tinge of desperation now, as he began to realize that she wasn’t going to go with him.

Arya put her knife away and Gendry edged closer, encouraged by the small gesture. Arya turned and ran.

Gendry had left her behind in the Riverlands. She had been through a lot since then. She was going to die soon, not before she left more bodies in her wake first of course, but she was going to die. That meant that she wasn’t going to let Gendry get closer to her. She wasn’t going to let anyone get close to her. It was why she hadn’t gone home yet, because it was full of people that wouldn’t understand, and would only get hurt in the process of trying.

As the snow crunched under her feet, she heard other footsteps, and suddenly she was grabbed and lifted. Arya snarled and fought but the arms were strong, and experienced, as if they knew exactly how to grab people. But Arya knew how to escape, and her hands slipped out from the grasp, and went up, swinging for his face while she twisted. Arya made contact with her fist, and managed to slip out as he was stunned. Arya looked at the man, and saw confirmation it was Gendry still. He looked back at her, teeth clenched, eyes steeled.

“You won’t escape again.” He said as they stood some feet apart. “I made a mistake and lost you for years. I won’t let that happen again.” Gendry’s words were as heavy as the steel he worked.

“I’ve escaped more determined people than you,” Arya hissed, scowling at him. Trying to hold her down. She couldn’t be. She wouldn’t be. There were things that needed to be done, debts that needed to be paid.